A Midnight Snack
by NaomiJameston
Summary: Harry is hungry... And Draco is, too.


Title: Midnight Snack

Summary: Harry is hungry… And so is Draco

Couple: HP/DM

Disclaimer: Still, not mine… but I wish they were! Nope, still JKR's!

A/N: By the way, so we are all clear, this is slash, a male/male relationship. Of that squicks you, please leave. Also, there is some food smut in this. I personally do not like food smut, but one of my friends requested this, so here it is in all its gooey glory. Enjoy!

_Click_. Draco Malfoy's eyes opened slowly, trying to adjust to the almost complete darkness in his room. Almost? Who the hell is up at this time of night?

He crept from the room, carefully closing the door behind him, doing his best to not disturb the others who slept on. He still marveled at how many rooms this place had: 12 Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He had joined just recently, after his father and Voldemort had refused to allow him to become a Death Eater, his childhood dream and greatest ambition. But, no. They had refused, had taken his one last vestige of pride. Bastards. Hope they rot.

But all this thinking didn't answer the question he still had: who was awake and why? He crept down the stairs, careful to step near the sides. They still hadn't been able to get rid of the creak no matter what spells they tried. It was Draco's belief that that damn house elf, Kreacher –aptly named- undid the screws that held the stairs in place at night. How perfect for someone to fall through and wake Kreacher's mistress. _Wonderful_. Just plain peachy.

His treacherous path ended outside the dining room. The light was much brighter in here, but still only came through a crack underneath the door leading to the kitchen. Ah, someone needed a midnight snack. All right. That's fine. I'll just… But before he could think 'go,' his stomach grumbled, reminding him of how little he had eaten at dinner. And how could he, with the Weasels staring at him and at that Granger chit. His overly active mind messed with the thought of sneaking in her room to scare her, but then remembered that the Weasley twins lived here, too. He most certainly didn't want to be on their bad sides, especially as one of them would most likely be with her; couldn't tell which, but that didn't really matter.

His stomach grumbled again, and he sighed. All right, fine. I'll just make a sandwich and leave. Happy now? If stomachs could purr, his was most certainly doing so now. He pushed open the door slightly, slipped inside, and allowed his jaw to drop.

Harry Potter, in nothing but his boxers, was making a sandwich and dancing across the kitchen, singing softly. Draco, allowing his inner predator a good, long look, rested his back against the doorframe, drinking his fill of Harry. You know, when he isn't clothed, he's actually quite good-looking, he decided. Yes, quite. Nice face without those _stupid_ glasses; nice chest, strong and lean just as he liked; nice legs, long and oh-so-limber; nice a- Whoa, better not go there Draco. Too soon.

He chuckled a little, drawing Harry's attention. "What are you doing here?" he asked, slightly flushing along his cheekbones.

"Same as you, I would imagine," Draco shot back, stepping away from the door. "Aren't I allowed to have a midnight snack?"

"Depends on what your idea of a 'snack' is, Malfoy."

"Now, now, Potter. Let's not start of on the wrong foot, especially this late," he paused, glancing at Harry's watch, "or early, as it were." He stepped smoothly around Harry, opening the fridge with one hand and reaching for the bread with the other. "After all, why wouldn't I want something to eat? I'm growing, too."

Harry muttered something obscene in his hand, trying to cover it with a cough. Draco, in a show of indifference, ignored him. Bustled about making his sandwich, pretending his old nemesis was right behind him, probably with a knife in his hand. Wait, he really was!

Draco spun around at a light touch on his shoulder, shirtless, of course. "What?" he snapped. Harry laughed mercilessly and handed him the knife handle, holding on to the blade gingerly.

"Can't make a sandwich without something to spread the mayo, now can you?"

As much as he didn't want to, Draco had to laugh. He accepted the blade, holding it until Harry had removed his hand from the other side. "Thanks," Draco muttered as he whirled back around.

"No prob, Draco." The knife clattered to the counter.

"What did you say?"

A slight warmth behind him as Harry drew closer. "I said no problem." Draco relaxed a little, believing his imagination was playing with him again. For a second he thought he had heard- "Draco."

Gulp. "What?" Don't turn around. It's what he wants. Don't turn around.

"Turn around." Draco, listening to that perfect voice, allowed himself to be turned ever so slowly by Harry.

"Happy?" he asked when they faced each other.

"Almost," Harry whispered. Draco opened his mouth to ask what the hell _that_ meant, but no sound was forthcoming, as the way appeared to be blocked by Harry's lips.

Ahh, perfection truly _is_ achievable, apparently.

He moaned, pressing back against Harry, wrapping his arms around his neck. Harry's tongue licked his lips, forcing Draco to open them for him. Gladly, he did, finding ultimate satisfaction in submission. Oh, Merlin, this was perfect.

Harry's hands swept around Draco's back, playing with something on the countertop. Draco tried to see what it was, but his mobility suddenly became limited as Harry's lips found the tendon that connected his shoulder and neck. "Oh, Harry…"

"Yes?" came the rather smug and satisfied answer.

"What are you doing?"

A chuckle. "Nothing, Draco." A small trickle of cold along his stomach a moment later disproved those words. Draco yelped and tried to get away from the cold, until Harry's mouth slipped into the gooey mess. Oh, yesssss…

Small sucking sounds and moans were the only audible sounds for several minutes, until Harry's mouth closed around the tip of Draco's erection. Draco's back arched for several seconds, and suddenly the fact that he was naked with an equally naked Harry on a kitchen floor in the middle of the night in a place he hardly knew with people he hardly trusted didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except Harry.

Harry steadily increased the pressure on Draco's arousal, swallowing the entirety of it with a small moan. Draco had held out for as long as he could, but no longer. Stuffing his fist in his mouth to smother the shout, he came. Harry swallowed every last drop of it, savoring the taste of Draco, once his enemy, now something much more.

He crawled back up to Draco's side, pulling the slighter boy in his arms to cease his trembling, ignoring his now weeping cock.

"Oh, Harry…"

"Yes?"

A long pause. "Take me." Harry's eyes shot open, surprise and something akin to admiration in them as he processed the words.

"Gladly." A spell and several minutes later, Harry, quite satisfied, pulled Draco along the corridors to his bedroom. He didn't explain, never would, but he didn't want Draco away from him tonight. Or any night, for that matter.

Back in the kitchen, two people sneaked out of the cupboard where they had been hiding, smothering their giggles.

"Did we get all of it, Fred?" Hermione asked.

"Yep. Every single movement," Fred replied, turning off the digital camera he had 'borrowed' from the Muggle neighbors a few days ago. He was planning on returning it, but not until he and Hermione had made several copies of the video and hidden them.

"Good." Hermione snuggled against Fred's side, sighing in contentment. Fred chuckled. "What?"

"Draco never finished his sandwich."

Hermione blinked for a few seconds, then howled her laughter. Fred joined her, and the noise soon brought another Weasley down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, rubbing his eyes.

Fred and Hermione shared a glance that spoke multitudes and answered in unison:

"Having a midnight snack!"

The End


End file.
